Watcher of the Wood: The Journal of Guard Laewe
by Auua Ytjoml
Summary: Achen Laewe feels that some stories should be left untold - and some shouldn't. In her journal she records the hopes, fears, sorrows and loves of her life's path. ON HIATUS
1. Day of the Sorrowful Wind

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of the Sorrowful Wind

It has been a long time since I kept a journal of any kind.

. . . .

I suppose I should start with who I am and why I've have picked up this useful habit again. My name, or as much of it as anyone needs to know is Achen Laewe. I go by a number of other names mostly bestowed upon me by the mice that meet me and walk my paths for a while. I was born some time ago, I forget the number of seasons that have past . . . I have lived through the Weasel Wars and the Black Axe Rebellion . . . that should give you an idea of my experience with the world. I have lived through the death of my father – though I never really knew him, I knew him better than most. I've lived through winter blizzards and spring rains and summer droughts and chill Autumn frosts. But I've seen a world of winter diamonds, flown with the spring chicks, talked to bees in a lazy summer field, and tasted the spicy juice of a frost apple late in the season. So I suppose I haven't been to badly off.

My father died last winter. I wasn't there to hold his hand or hear his last words – though I know what they were. I didn't watch his body burn to nurturing ashes on a Lockhaven pyre. I never said goodbye to him, never acknowledged his lessons, never told him 'I forgive you' and that, I suppose, is why I put my pen to barkpaper now. To tell him all this and to show others that I'm more than I appear.

That I'm more than just watchful eyes in the wood.


	2. Day of the Gossiping Wind

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of the Gossiping Wind

Oh is it cold today! And the wind is such a chatterbox too! He swept right into my home without a by-your-leave, which rumpled my fur I must admit, but he also brought some curious news to my ears, so I am somewhat mollified. Shall I tell? I think this journal is safe enough for such gossip. Lockhaven is missing one of it's finest – I'm sure most know of the green cloaked Lieam's absence from anywhere at all that you'd care to look - but, here's what the wind knows. He's being hunted. Not searched for, no, hunted – and by Mice! It's a good thing the hollow I make my home in, an extension off of an old woodpeckers nest, is well concealed. People who listen in on murder plots often find themselves murdered as well! These wee winter trackers have some venom behind their words. I believe I may have to do a little tracking my self. I'm no spring beauty but I'm nobody's grannymouse either. That Lieam needs some advice on making enemies: how not to. And I'm not so held to the law that I would feel sorry if a few accidents befell our fell mercenaries – or feel sorry that I was the one that tripped the traps.

Watch out Greenie! Here I come!


	3. Day of the Blue Robin

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of the Blue Robin

Now here's a more cheerful reason for journaling – someday, somebeast will take up my pages and have a good long chuckle at what's there. Today I met an odd sight. I was just starting out at midday, having finally plugged up and stored away all my belongings that wont be making the trek with me. Oh! I better write down everything I brought just so as to have a good record of it – after all that's what journals are for – recording. But I'll do that at the end. First off my tummy tickler. So I was setting out pack on back, trawls on paws, when, oomph!, I tripped over a twig I'd've sworn wasn't there a blink of the eye ago. With good cause too! That twig was paired up with another twig and both of those were attached to a sodden ball of miserable feathers. Well I hauled body out of the bank and lit a fire under the eves of a large root before examining my find. The bird was a mess for starters – feathers every which way, plumes snapped, barbs unbarbed. But getting around all that he had a fine coat of rust brown-red feathers and a nice healthy red beak. Most importantly he was alive. When he finally thawed his bright eyes followed me constantly. I asked him what he'd been doing and he said 'Being a mole was I'. A mole! Can you believe it? A robin who wants to be a mole. Tk-tk-tk-tk. I told him birds are better off in the sky not underground but I don't think he listened to me. He wants to know everybeast's way of life and that includes moles. Well I guess that's that. He gave me a fond memory to look back on and for that I am grateful. I left him there with strict instructions on how to put out the tiny flame I left him. Last I looked back he was waving a wing in farewell.

Oh! And here is my list.

One haversack

Four packages dried berries

Four packages honey preserved grubs

Two packages high energy travel cake

One flask of water

One bedroll

One wool and spidersilk cloak

One winter tunic

One red knit hat

Two trawls (snowshoes)

One coil spidersilk rope

One ax

One dagger

One sling/belt

One pouch of slingstones

One lantern

One sewing kit including black thread, white thread, needles, pins, thimble, and 2 buttons

One fire kit including goldstone, iorn, lantern oil, and tinder fluff


	4. Day of Endless Trekking

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of Endless Trekking

Today's entry reminds me of why I stopped journaling in the first place – boredom. Who would want to read about all the picky details of someone's life? Today I marched. No interesting interruptions, no sign of anyone but myself, loads upon loads of snow. At dusk I made a hammock nest in the branches of a overgrown juniper. I should make Lockhaven in two more days march. By the time I get there I'll need either a disguise or a reason for being alive (and not dead in a hawk's belly) – either way it's not going to be pretty.


	5. Day of Disguises

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of Disguises

A lone mouse, covered in snow - a rough cut stave and winter tunic its only possessions – approaches the city of the guard asking only for food, a night out of the cold and help for her beleaguered town.

This will be the disguise I wear on the morrow. I will be a simple woodcutter with some basic skills in stavework to fend off predators. My aim – so far away from any other town and in midwinter – is help from the guard for the town of Elmmoss who is held in fear by a group of barbaric Ermine. That last part is true and I would have sent word to Lockhaven sooner (by bird) if I hadn't needed a reason to partake of it's hospitality. But don't think I'm putting one mouse ahead of many – the Ermine are only bullies and no one will be hurt, not seriously at least, while Elmmoss waits for reinforcements.

I hope this disguise does the trick. In addition to the frosty glaze on my fur I plan to be a cheery soul of the type that will talk for hours on the deeds of their great grandfathers and the fine points of the brewing of dandylion wine. So dislike me this will be that it should throw off the scent.

I will not write while in Lockhaven – my journal will remain with the rest of my gear – outside those gates. I trust not to curious folk to keep their paws and eyes to themselves.


	6. Hello Guard Laewe

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Hello Guard Laewe

I have found your journal here among your supplies. I've added to them some food as you might be wanting. When you read this do not be alarmed at the discovery of your mission. I will not tell a soul. For proof of my sincerity you need only look for my token where the bees dance at the hidden tower near the forgotten mine of crystal.

Athe


	7. Day of Surprises

Journal of Guard Laewe during the Winter of the Long Icicles

Day of Surprises

That someone has found my journal and supplies troubles me. They were well hidden and I know not, or remember not, who this Athe is. It could be a trap for I know their chosen hiding place only passably well. It could be meant for to lure me away from my true mission. Or it could be, but I never bet on the side of less caution, that they mean what they wrote. Either way it seems I must trust him or her. I will continue on my chosen path.


	8. Another Day of Endless Trekking

Journal of Guard Laewe in the Winter of the Long Icicles

Another Day of Endless Trekking

More boredom … except this time with a little more haste and uncertainty. I tested the food left to me by Athe. Now that I'm sure it's not poisoned I'm glad for extra provisions. I do wish I'd gotten sign of my 'comrade'. But all pawprints were brushed out with a juniper branch for some ways and all to soon my nebulous trail ended at a large stream flowing too fast to freeze. As my newest destination lies on this side of the water

I decided to leave off – there were no tracks on the opposite side. My mouse had traveled with the stream.


	9. Journey into Lockhaven

Journal of Guard Laewe in the Winter of the Long Icicles

Journey into Lockhaven

I still have not put down what happened while I was in Lockhaven. As I see nothing of interest (likely) happening for the next few days I will take this time instead to record what I did there and what I learned.

As I walked (wearily and pawsore) up to the gate of Lockhaven that evening a guard in saffron called down and asked me my business. I answered as I had planned . . . that I was seeking aid for my beleaguered town. I was let in and brought to the gatehouse to thaw out and get some warm soup in me. The gate guard introduced himself as Suirme and took my cloak and bade me to sit down by the fire to thaw. He was a young thing no more than a season or two into his duties (he told me he was still a novice when Midnight took his war to Lockhaven's gates). He apologized for not giving me more comfortable lodgings but that Gwendolyn or Landra themselves would be down to escort me in as a reward for my patience. I approve of this young mouse. Although young he seems wise in the ways of diplomacy. Either he must not leave his post to escort me in or (as I think is more likely) the Guard are carefully screening any and all mice who seek entrance.

Luckily for me it was Landra, the new master of defense, who came down to greet me. She and I had never met before and so I felt fairly confident that she would not recognize me. I told her my story and after a few questions, which I answered correctly, she led me up to her office. She bid me take seat there and introduced me to her helper, a black beetle. She then sat at her desk and began writing a missive. She fixed it to the beetles back and sent it on its way. At that moment she spoke, back turned to me. Her words were as follows. "Mouse Emma. I believe you words concerning Elmmoss are true. I have just sent a missive gathering a patrol to send there. But you are lying." Here I opened my mouth in protest as is fitting my part. She held out a paw "Or if your words are not outright lies, your tale is cleverly worded as to hide many things from those who would seek the truth. Nevertheless I feel I must trust you. I cannot explain this feeling except that I sense I must follow its instinct. Do not . . . I repeat, do not betray this trust or I will find you and learn your secrets." All I could do was nod my head. I had not heard of Landra being so keen-sighted. I am reminded that one who is pragmatic must not be blind. It is a good lesson to learn.

The sun is dipping below the horizon now and I wish not to light a fire so I will end for the night.


	10. Espionage on Lockhaven

Journal of Guard Laewe in the Winter of the Long Icicles

Espionage on Lockhaven

All today my eyes saw nothing but the snow and the trees. My ears heard nothing but the wind, and the hidden brook I walk beside, and the winter birds that take no heed of my passage. My nose smelled nothing but the crisp sent of snow and the fresh sent of the pine I make my bed in for the night.

That first night in Lockhaven I spent in the small but homey guests quarters, arranged as an open common room with several hearths about the walls and pillows and bunks for sleep or, if one preferred, space to lay out one's bedroll. Only one other mouse shared the room with me. She was a thin, sleek furred beauty spending the winter with the mouse she was want to be married to. In keeping with my part I sat up late talking with her and listening to the attributes of her love. She said much to make me think a day tramping through snow with only my thoughts for company has its benefits. According to the young mouse, her love is the bravest, wisest, smartest, most skillful warrior since the Black Ax. Hmph! The Black Ax, I told her, won his fame with luck and bravery and that wisdom is found in far rarer quantities than it is needed.

The next morning I woke early and made my way to the kitchens where I set to my task with gusto. There is no surer way to commit espionage without detection than gossip. I plied my trade first with the cooks as I helped prepare breakfast then with each mouse that straggled into the dining hall. Most of their talk was, as expected, mere prattle but I learned several bits of information important to my quest. For example one mouse with a splint on her leg moaned about a bad problem with a pair tufted forest owls in between Rootwallow and Shorestone and how enforcement had been sent but that no mouse had been able to do much besides provide some protection for the towns. Another mouse talked of a thief? in Copperwood who had taken food left unwatched in the night but had left coinage for it. That night the another mouse living just to the west of Copperwood claimed to have seen a ghostly figure cloaked in green and grey who had slipped through the trees and left no prints. Of course, the guard added, it was snowing heavily that night so _any_ prints would have been quickly lost. After a day of telling and receiving stories I retired to my bed and was asleep before my companion returned to hers.


	11. Escape from Lockhaven

Journal of Guard Laewe in the Winter of the Long Icicles

Escape from Lockhaven

My second day in Lockhaven, although I had not acted myself, was, nevertheless, still enjoyable. The third day was anything but. So far had I managed to avoid mice that might have recognized me, but Gwendolyn wanted to see her newest guest and in the morning, was waiting at the door to greet me. I put on my cheeriest smile and thanked her for her hospitality (that sentiment, at least, was genuine) and chattered about how exciting Lockhaven was and how I wished I could be here in the summer for I hear it's ever so much more beautiful then . . . and on . . . and on. She seemed slightly put off by my demeanor as if the mouse she _thought_ she recognized was not prone to the behavior said mouse was exhibiting (she was right). Every time I thought she might be getting closer to the truth I asked her a question or some other such thing to lead her astray and break her train of thought. I believe it worked. She eventually bade me farewell citing her duties and that was that. Eternally I heaved a sigh of relief. Now that I had my information, I needed to get out - before someone **did** put two and two together. That required another excuse. Why would a mouse want to leave safety, without a patrol, when her home was overrun by predators and a patrol was soon to be leaving for her home (if she didn't care about the predators)? In the end I simply snuck out through a tunnel that I gambled wouldn't have a guard. I was right, fortunately. I wasn't sure how well known the tunnel had become since I had used it in my youth.

Tonight I have stopped short of my goal (Rootwallow). I wish not to be discovered; by the birds ... or by the mice.


End file.
